No more dead dogs
by im-that-squirrel-in-your-trash
Summary: John Standborn has bought a new home in a small country town in Maine. After the divorce between him and his wife, it was time to settle down abit with his young son and the family dog. But what John dosen't know is his new home holds a dark secret that


_(Author Note: Hey everyone! This will be my first story tear I hope this is a good one! And don't be scared to Review, I need more to look forward to then just junk mail these days.) _

-Chapter One-

John Standborn drove his red pick-up truck throw the Maine border. In his dark blue eyes, a look of irritation and a look of a tired mind was easy to see. He glanced out of the rear view mirror and watched Tank, a German Shepard John had bought his six year old son for his birthday.

Tank was near pasted 11 months and was already twice the size of his son. The dog had his large frame sat in the back of the truck, barking at _every_ car that flew past the Maine high way. Tank's leash had been tried to a cinder block and was placed in the middle of the truck, it would keep that dog's ass in the truck and not in the road.

John reached back and slammed his fist onto the back windshield. "Shut up, Goddamnit!" John yelled, tho he knew Tank wouldn't listen, even if Tank could hear him.

"Don't be mad at Tank daddy, he's just nervus about the move is all." John's son sat in the front seat next to him, just drawing in a small coloring book John had bought him to keep him from getting bored on the trip. John glanced down at his son then back to the road. "Your right, Tank's just nervus..." John smiled and ruffled the black hair on his son's head. "Are you nervus, Scotty?" He asked this knowing how kids are...A young child will always use stuffed animals or imaginary friends or even pets and talk through them, using them to say how they feel without having to deal with the troubles of getting caught.

Scotty only shrugged, still working on his picture. " Not really...Is Mommy coming too?" John's smile sank but he kept his eyes on the road. "Now Scotty we've talked about this...Mommy's staying back home in New York." "When can we see her?" John gripped the steering wheel harder, he didn't like talking about Emily. "_You_ get to see her ever 6 months, but for now your going to stay with me..." Scotty didn't say anymore, only got back to work on his drawing.

John sighed. Ever sense the divorce he had felt troubled and couldn't sleep well at night. It came to him that he should get away from it all and move to the countryside, where he could relax and spend time with his son.

Besides Tank's constant barks and whimpers it was quiet in the truck. John had to find away to lighten the mood. "Say, would you like to see the house?" Scotty grinned and looked up. "Yeah!" John laughed, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a white piece of computer paper and handed it to his young son. At the top of the paper was the famous logo. The page was full of small letters but that wold be no interest to a six year old boy. John pointed to the colored picture of a house in the middle of the page. "There she is." The house was large and white, a large yard with a nice looking forest in the back. "Is it an upstairs and down stairs house?" Scotty asked, running his finger over the words like he had seen his daddy do many of times while reading. John nodded. "Yep, its even got a basement."

It would seem rather odd for a single man with a small child to own such a large house but the price for the house was a bargain. It was cheaper then the house he and his wife had lived in and twice the size. John had came to see the house two months before to check it out and one month after that to bring every thing he owned there. It seemed fairly nice, so John had only guessed it was cheap because it was right in front of a large highway.

"Guessed what..." John said, a small smile coming over his face. Scotty gave his father the same smile. "What?" John looked back to the road. "Well, there's a path behind the house, I went some ways down it, seems like a neat trail we can go down and have our own little camp sight." His son almost jumped out of his seat. "Really? Can we really go camping when we get there?" John chuckled. "Sure, why not."

John wouldn't tell his son what else was down the trail. It would be something he would have to show his son, something that would help John explain death to Scotty.


End file.
